His Blessed Protector
by Jendra
Summary: Smarm.  Blair doesn't want Jim to be his blessed protector anymore, not if it means he'll get hurt.  Jim disagrees.


'His' Blessed Protector

by Jendra

This is not the newest T & P, it has nothing to do with T & P and is nothing like it! You have been warned. This is smarm and angst, and very little else. So don't go reading it expecting another one like my T & P ones, okay?

Not mine, not beta'd, can be archived.

C & C always welcomed.

Jim looked at his partner in concern as they pulled away from the hospital. Blair had been silent and still for the past three hours and it was really starting to worry him.

"Chief?" Jim ventured as they stopped at a red light.

Blair glanced over at him for a moment, his face more of a closed mask then Jim had ever seen it. *_So that's what I look like when I put up my walls_,* Jim thought uneasily. *_No wonder he hates it._*

Not another word was said until the truck was parked in front of the loft. Still without speaking, Blair got out of the driver's seat and went around to open the passenger door for Jim. Jim got out, being careful of his injured arm. "Chief?" he tried again. He winced as Blair slammed the truck's door shut and stomped up the stairs toward the loft. Still Jim felt relieved. It might have been loud, but it was 'normal'. And he wanted normal. The silence had been starting to scare him.

He started to smile as he climbed the stairs. He could hear Blair as he started to mutter under his breath, stomping around the apartment, banging down the tea kettle and various utensils.

Jim stood outside the door for a minute, trying to get his breathing under control. The pain medication he had been given in the hospital had worn off while they were in the truck and he hadn't wanted to ask Blair to help him with the pain dials. Not until he'd gotten over whatever had made him so angry anyways. Jim thought back over everything that had happened that day. Although it had culminated in him getting shot, he still couldn't think of anything he had done that would make his partner behave so unlike himself.

"Will you get up here?" Blair growled impatiently.

Jim frowned as he walked in, the pain starting to make him testy. "What's your problem?" he asked, tired of trying to figure it out. "You're not the one that got shot, I don't see what you're so annoyed about."

"Annoyed? ANNOYED!" Blair shouted as Jim closed the door. "My partner is a stubborn, masochistic, pig-headed idiot, and you wonder why I'm annoyed? What were you doing? You almost got yourself killed throwing yourself in the line of fire like that! What were you thinking?"

"What was I thinking?" Jim roared back, glaring at his Guide. "I was thinking that I was saving your hide! If I hadn't pushed you out of the way, that bullet would have blown your brains out! Not that you were using them much at the time anyway."

"But you could have gotten killed!" Blair wailed.

"So could you!" Jim answered back. "But neither of us did."

"Yeah? Well what about next time? It's not your job to keep saving me like that, especially not by putting yourself in danger." Blair was glaring now.

"Yes, it is," Jim glared right back. "Not only am I a cop and you're a civilian, not only am I a Sentinel sworn to protect my Guide, but I'm your Blessed Protector remember? Saving you is part of the job description."

"Come on, Jim, that was just an off the cuff remark I made one day! I didn't mean for you to take it seriously! I was just talking like I always do and you never take anything else I say seriously." Blair was pacing back and forth, his hands waving in the air. "I mean, I've told you that some cultures eat monkey brains, but I don't see you going out and buying any! And just because there's one culture that says if you save a person's life you have to keep on doing it, doesn't mean you do! I mean, in another, if you save a person's life he's your servant for the rest of his life."

Jim grinned. "I could handle that," he said with a smile, trying to diffuse the tension. "Maybe the loft would finally get totally clean."

"JIM! You're missing the point here! I don't want you getting hurt because I'm in danger," Blair was finally starting to calm down but his words were still very intense. "You're not responsible for me. I know! I hereby resolve you of all ties of Blessed Protectorship." He made what might have been mystical gestures in Jim's direction. "I'm cancelling the contract, absolving you of the debt, whatever. There!"

Jim thought of several responses to that. A number of them could never be said in polite company. His first instinct was to just let it go, he was never going to stop protecting his friend no matter what happened. His second was to yell at his Guide with lots of unpolite comments.

With an effort, Jim spoke calmly. "Does that mean I have to give up my Blessed Protector too?" he asked.

Blair stared at him, sidetracked. "'You' have a Blessed Protector? Who is it? How come I didn't know about him? Was he someone you met in the Army? I know! It's Simon, isn't it? He's always getting you out of trouble. Nah, it's probably someone who saved your life while you were on one of those missions you can't tell me about, right?"

"Actually, he saved my life the second time we met, and has done it many times since then."

"How come you never told me about him? Is it top secret or something?" Blair was bouncing, becoming interested in the conversation and hoping to learn something new about his usually recalcitrant partner.

"I never thought I needed to tell you about him," Jim answered with a shrug, forgetting his arm for a moment.

Blair grew downhearted for a moment and then perked back up. After all, Jim was telling him about him now, wasn't he? "So? How'd he save your life the first time? And how many other times?"

Jim resettled his hurt arm, wincing slightly at the pain, but Blair was too interested in the story to really notice. "Well," Jim said. "The first time he became my Blessed Protector, he threw himself under a garbage truck for me."

Blair's mouth opened but Jim overrode whatever he was going to say. "He's pulled me out of zone outs when I would have gotten shot, bluffed criminals with a laser pointer, used a gun, which he normally wouldn't touch, to try to save me. He's kept me sane, protected me from other people and from myself. He's even tried to make sure I don't die of a heart attack because of the food I eat." Jim didn't move his gaze from Sandburg's face. "I've never kept track of how many times he's saved me. I've never felt it necessary. And it scares me, a lot, to see him put into danger on my account. And I know that a lot of the trouble he gets into wouldn't happen if it wasn't for me and being with me. And sometimes I think that I should give up my Blessed Protector to keep him safe, but I can't. I'm not going to. And neither are you. Because as long as you're my friend, partner, Guide, and Blessed Protector, I'm going to be yours as well."

Blair's eyes were shining. "'I'm' your Blessed Protector?" he asked in disbelief. "I'm 'your' Blessed Protector?" His voice was almost a squeak and he pointed to himself, waiting until Jim nodded. He walked up to Jim and looked into his eyes, then threw his arms around him in a hug. Jim returned it one armed and listened with a smile as Blair continued talking, his voice muffled by Jim's shirt. "You really think of 'me' like that? Well, I know a Guide's job is to guide and 'protect' his Sentinel, but I never thought of myself as the Blessed Protector type, more like the Blessed Protectee. And I do feel blessed to have you as my protector you know, it's just I don't want you to get hurt because of me. Maybe that's just my Protector instincts coming to the fore. Do you think I have protector instincts? I had thought it was just part of the Sentinel matrix, but maybe not..."

"Do you think 'my' Blessed Protector could do me a favor?" Jim interrupted.

"Of course!" Blair answered pulling back. "What do you need? I didn't hurt you when I grabbed you like that, did I? Oh man, I can't believe I forgot about your arm, are the meds still working? Here, you need to sit down on the couch and I'll go get you some tea. Or would you rather have hot chocolate? Not that that instant stuff is near as good as real, but I suppose it's not bad, and it's real comfort food. Isn't it strange how some foods are considered comfort foods? And of course they're different in every culture, for instance the Ethiopians consider..."

"Chief!" Jim interrupted. "Could you just get me a pain pill?" Although his voice was annoyed, he was happy to see Blair back to normal. For some reason, his chatter didn't get on his nerves near as much as the silence had.

"Of course, big guy," Blair went to get the bottle, "Though these really aren't good for you, I've got these herbs that will work just as well without the side effects, they might even work better with your weird reaction to drugs, and as your Blessed Protector, I should be watching out for things like that." He went into his room as he spoke and then stopped still. "Me," he said in a wondering tone, "'his' Blessed Protector. Oh, man, this is so cool."

"I've created a monster," Jim moaned, with a smile.


End file.
